


study break

by shotacatboy



Category: Shall We Date?: Obey Me!
Genre: Blood, Blow Jobs, Bottom Lucifer, Demoncest, Explicit Sexual Content, Hand Jobs, Incest, M/M, Masochism, Sadism, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-09
Updated: 2020-07-09
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:33:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25166263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shotacatboy/pseuds/shotacatboy
Summary: "You look half-dead," Mammon tells him, "and I'ddefinitelybe a Mammoron if I didn't take advantage of that fact."Lucifer's lips twitch. Amused. Better than anger, at the very least. "What exactly are you proposing?"Mammon swallows. Then, gathering what confidence he can, he leans in close and presses his lips against Lucifer's ear."I'm proposin'Imakeyouthe one writhing for a change."
Relationships: Lucifer/Mammon (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!)
Comments: 14
Kudos: 214





	study break

**Author's Note:**

> this is my first obey me fic so apologies in advance if it's terrible lol i have forever been enamoured with the idea of mammon fucking lucifer, so!! here you go

Studying has never been Mammon's strong suit.

Even if it was, it isn't as if anyone would find him doing much of it. He  _ is  _ a busy man, after all, occupied by both his modeling work and the ever-present search for his next money-making scheme. It's difficult to focus, find any sense of comfort in the books laid before him—not when there are those damned witches that consistently hound him, or possible riches waiting for him just beyond the horizon.

He likes to think that, one day, none of this will matter. He'll be rolling around in gold and jewels so bountiful that all those times Lucifer and Satan spent yelling at him for "messing around" will cease importance. He'll be so wealthy, in fact, that  _ they'll  _ be the ones on their knees begging  _ him  _ for spare cash.

_ Oh, won't that be the day,  _ he thinks, unable to help the grin curling at his lips.  _ They'll never know what him 'em. _

He shifts in his seat. The movement, however, is a bit too sudden, too fast, causing the chair's legs to scrape uncomfortably loud against the ground. He flinches and casts a cautious glance across the room, where Lucifer is working on unknown paperwork. The latter does not lift his head, but his tone is stern, cold.

"Have you finished reviewing your notes yet?"

It's hardly a question. He already knows the answer.

Mammon swallows, shakes his head. Then, when he remembers Lucifer can't see him, he says, "N-not yet. Almost."

He expects immediate reprimand. Doubt, of some sort, or a low threat to get back to reading lest he face unfortunate circumstances. But Lucifer doesn't speak, instead sighing softly and continuing to write as if there hadn't been an interruption.

Mammon blinks. Surprised.  _ That's… not right. _

Especially now, of all times. Midterms are right around the corner. All things considered, Lucifer's patience should be wearing thinner than usual. He should be growling, rising from his seat, crossing the room towards Mammon and—

Ah, but he is also bone-tired. Mammon can sense it, clear as day. It's visible, too, in the way he hunches over his paperwork, the lines of his shoulders getting stiffer by the minute. He shakes his wrist whenever he turns a page, and the free hand he has in his hair curls tight around his locks.

He's stressed.  _ Of course he is,  _ Mammon thinks. It's only expected that his duties would be practically overwhelming at this time of year.

Still, Lucifer couldn't have demanded Mammon's presence for the night without plans to keep a close eye on him, scold him… quite possibly,  _ punish  _ him in the event he try to sneak away at the slightest convenience.

Mammon wonders if Lucifer would stop him, should he make an attempt now—but at present he isn't nearly foolish enough to try, not when his grades are abysmal and Lucifer is clearly in a less than stellar mood.

He ponders a moment. Then, an idea.

A moronic one, sure, but the best he can conceive.  _ Anything  _ to get out of studying.

He stands, slowly, ensuring that he doesn't make any noise as he walks over. Lucifer, on the thin precipice between exhaustion and utter collapse, makes no indication that he notices—only reacting when Mammon's hands land upon his shoulders, jolting for an instant then readjusting.

"What are you doing?" he asks. Mammon cannot detect any anger in his voice and takes it as an opening to proceed.

Gently, he sinks his calloused fingers against the tension and replies, "Giving ya a massage. You look like you've been turned to stone."

Lucifer grunts at the applied pressure. A good sign. "Yes, well," he replies, "I am very busy right now. And you should be, too. Why aren't you studying?"

"Yeesh, can't a guy do somethin' nice for his brother?" Mammon laughs, but there is some uncertainty in his words. Perhaps he's gone too far. "Keep goin' like this and you won't be around to bother me anymore."

"Highly unlikely," Lucifer says. Still, he does not resist as Mammon kneads his rigid muscles. He places his pen down—another good sign—and heaves a heavy breath.

They continue in silence for several minutes. Mammon's gaze flicks to the bottle of Demonus at the corner of his desk, an empty glass set beside it.  _ So it's one of  _ those  _ nights, huh. _

Lucifer, ever observant, can tell what he is thinking. "No."

Mammon scoffs. "C'mon, it ain't like that. Let me pour you a glass, at least."

Lucifer is reluctant, he can tell. Still, he nods, and Mammon reaches forward to uncork the bottle and pour a generous amount of its contents into the delicate cup. Lucifer takes it and drinks a long, deliberate sip.

"Feelin' better yet?" Mammon asks. Hope sparks in his chest when he sees Lucifer glance at the wall, where an elaborate clock ticks a monotonous tone.

"How much classwork have you reviewed?"

The query catches Mammon off guard. He sputters, replies, "Uh, some? A… A substantial amount!"

It's a lie, and obvious to boot. Under normal circumstances Lucifer would bare his teeth and grab Mammon by the ear, drag him back to his seat and demand that he get to work.

Tonight, though, he merely shakes his head. "It will have to do." He finishes his glass and places it upside-down on the desk. "Come, then. Pack your things and we will return to my room."

_ Wait.  _ "Your room?" Mammon echoes, stupidly, and draws his hands away. Lucifer stands and all at once he feels his confidence fade away, replaced by grim horror. "You don't mean—"

"What?" Lucifers interrupts, smirking. "Did you think I would let you get away that easy? I need to make sure you don't sneak out in the middle of the night."

Disturbingly logical, but even so—Mammon is aware that's not the  _ only  _ reason why he wants him there. Something must be awaiting him. A punishment, is the clear guess.

Mammon feels Lucifer's hand on the small of his back, urging his forward. "You heard me. Do not test my patience."

Mammon doesn't need any more convincing. He gathers his books under one arm and follows Lucifer down the empty halls, seeing that, as always, his expression is cool and collected, a lingering mask. No doubt hidden beneath it is insurmountable rage, or sadistic excitement at what he'll do to Mammon once they're behind a locked door.

Or… not. Once the door is shut behind them Lucifer does, indeed, begin getting into a state of undress, removing his gloves and undoing his tie, but there is something unusual behind his actions. Something almost exhaustive, evident in the shakiness of his normally deft fingers.

Mammon notices it immediately.  _ Right. He's tired. _

Thus, he does what any conniving businessman would do. He seizes the opportunity.

His hands take place of Lucifer's, undoing the tie and sliding it off effortlessly. It falls to the floor and Lucifer stares upon Mammon with both puzzlement and tired frustration.

"What are you doing?" The second time he's asked that tonight.

"You look half-dead," Mammon tells him, "and I'd  _ definitely  _ be a Mammoron if I didn't take advantage of that fact."

Lucifer's lips twitch. Amused. Better than anger, at the very least. "What exactly are you proposing?"

Mammon swallows. Then, gathering what confidence he can, he leans in close and presses his lips against Lucifer's ear.

"I'm proposin'  _ I  _ make  _ you  _ the one writhing for a change."

If Lucifer wasn't entirely conscious before, he certainly is now. He jerks his head back, his glare alone practically enough to decimate. "You—"

"I mean, if you're not up for it that's cool, too," Mammon continues, shrugging his shoulders in mock surrender, "but then what's stopping me from goin' out and making some… questionable decisions? Night's still young. Who  _ knows  _ what I'm capable of?"

"You truly are an incomprehensible fool," Lucifer says. "I'd stop you in an instant."

"Really? Looking like  _ that?"  _ Mammon makes a vague gesture to his disheveled state. "I'd like t' see ya try n' catch me. In fact, we could even make it a game!"

Lucifer furrows his brows. "Mammon—"

"The human's room ain't too far from here, right? If ya try and put up a chase I could use 'em as a shield and—"

A hand over his mouth, then, as Lucifer leans in close. Warm breath ghosts over Mammon's face, dangerous but oddly arousing. "You wouldn't dare."

He's right. Mammon wouldn't. But the proposal is enough to sway him, and Mammon watches with a sick sort of glee as Lucifer weighs his next decision.

"Alright," relents Lucifer, at last. He steps away, brushing at nonexistent dust on his coat. "If that is what will get you to behave, so be it."

Though this is the result Mammon had hoped for, his jaw drops. "You're… You're serious?"

"Clearly. Now hurry up. I'm almost feeling inclined to change my mind."

Mammon takes that as a promise. The force in which his body crashes into Lucifer's nearly causes the both of them to topple over, but he ignores it in favor of yanking at Lucifer's vest, pressing rough kisses along the column of his neck and—

Ah. He's never done this, has he?

Well, that's not to say he's never  _ fucked  _ anyone—far from the truth, actually, given his quick wit and insurmountable charm—but it is certainly the first time he'll be fucking  _ Lucifer. _

With Lucifer, he's more accustomed to brutal pain and chains and whips, crying out in pleasured agony and being denied his sweet release, on some occasions for hours on end until Lucifer gives him  _ exactly  _ what he's been begging for. Hard. Fast. Over and over, only stopping when Mammon's sobbing and panting, completely spent from the seemingly endless orgasms. They're not the most kind experiences.

Although… Mammon doesn't entirely  _ despise  _ those sorts of punishments, either.

No. He can't afford the leisure to think about that, not when at present Lucifer's impatience rolls off him in waves. Mammon won't allow him to take control tonight. This is the farthest he's ever gotten.

Lucifer's vest comes off after some resistance, landing on the ground in a crumpled heap. Lucifer clicks his tongue in annoyance but doesn't otherwise respond, and Mammon thanks the stars for his current state of fatigue—at best, such carelessness would have earned him a ruthless reprimand.

"I'll get it later," he says without thinking, a pointless assurance. His palms land on Lucifer's chest, over the thin dress shirt barely concealing his toned muscles, the fine lines of his abdomen. "Get on the bed."

Lucifer lifts a brow but complies. Once they've kicked off their shoes he lies on his back, Mammon moves to hover over him. He plants his legs at either of his sides and shakily begins unbuttoning his shirt.

Lucifer's chest rumbles in what might be a laugh. "What are your intentions?" he asks, causing Mammon to momentarily pause in his ministrations.

He… isn't sure. Honestly, he didn't even consider what he would do in this type of situation. Lucifer would never so much as allow him the  _ chance,  _ but today…

"L-like I said," he says, swiftly masking the stutter in his voice, "I'm gonna make ya writhe for me. Gonna make ya beg for my cock."

Oh, and now he can ascertain that Lucifer  _ is  _ laughing, quaking slightly under his hands. "I'll believe it when I see it."

_ Doubting me, is he?  _ Mammon huffs out a breath through his nostrils. Renewed determination instills itself within him, and he says, "Yeah, yeah, chuckle it up.  _ I'll  _ be the one laughing when I finally knock you down a few pegs."

A frown tugs at Lucifer's lips, and for several seconds Mammon fears he's said too much, gone too far, but Lucifer's response is merely, "Actions speak louder than words, you know."

_ Right,  _ Mammon thinks, ripping at the rest of the buttons of Lucifer's shirt, wincing as one pops.  _ 'M gonna prove it to this smug bastard. _

"Ah, but I would greatly prefer it if you weren't so careless with my attire," Lucifer says, low, "unless you'd like to pay me back for it?"

_ Noted. _

Three buttons left, and two, one. Mammon slides the shirt from Lucifer's arms and moves to carefully place it on the ground, rising once more so he can appreciate the supple skin of Lucifer's chest and stomach. He licks his lips at the sight. It's definitely not every day he sees Lucifer undressed like this.

He wonders briefly how to proceed. He severely doubts Lucifer has the same penchant for receiving pain that he does—but, then again, what does he care? What better way to get back at him for all those torturous disciplines than with some bite of his own?

Grinning, he bends and takes Lucifer's bottom lip between his teeth. Hard. It isn't until he feels blood begin to pool that he stops, lapping up the crimson liquid with his tongue and drawing away so he can gauge Lucifer's reaction.

It isn't much, but that's to be expected. Lucifer's eyes bore into his, surprisingly pliant, but the slight downward curve of his mouth speaks for itself.

_ Get on with it. _

He doesn't need to be told. The fingers of one hand splay over Lucifer's chest while the other traces thin nails down the expanse of his stomach and—

Lucifer is  _ hard. _

Not completely, Mammon muses, but enough. Perhaps he  _ is  _ enjoying this. The thought alone thrills Mammon, inspiring him to rub his palm teasingly over the growing bulge, concealed by restrictive clothing. Lucifer grunts.

"Enjoying yourself?" Mammon taunts, leaning close, moaning when Lucifer bites  _ his  _ lip next. The pain is not unwelcome.

He sighs happily, presses a bloody kiss against Lucifer's cheek. Probably toeing the line, but he finds that he no longer cares. This is  _ fun. _

"Do ya like that?" he asks, reaches for the hem of his pants next, tugging it and his underwear down abruptly and exposing his half-hard cock. He takes it in hand and gives a long, slow stroke, confidence rising at the way Lucifer's expression twitches in response. "You  _ do,  _ don't you? Don't worry, there's a lot more where that came from."

His thumb flicks over the tip, cautious and calculated. Mammon wants every touch to  _ mean  _ something, wants to milk Lucifer's reactions and savor them like Demonus for as long as he can. He doubts he'll get this opportunity again.

He works Lucifer's cock at a practiced pace, enough to pleasure but not satiate. Lucifer's face is even, steady, as always, but his desperation is evident in the instinctual thrust of his hips, the light blush dusting his cheeks. He releases a slow breath and Mammon realizes he's trying his best not to moan.

He can't have  _ that. _

A lightbulb goes off in his mind, then, and he pulls his hand away, noting the bead of precum smeared over the pad of his thumb. He licks it away, maintaining eye contact with Lucifer.

"Why did you stop?" There is a threat hidden somewhere in the question, but Mammon ignores it. He grins, sliding closer to the foot of the bed.

"Didn't ya listen to what I told you?  _ Twice."  _ He exhales, mouth mere inches away from Lucifer's cock.  _ This,  _ he understands, is familiar territory. If Lucifer's frequent punishments have taught him anything, it's how to suck dick—and how to do it  _ well. _

He parts his lips, glances up at Lucifer through half-lidded eyes.

"I'm gonna make ya  _ beg." _

He doesn't waste another second, pressing swift kisses on the length and dragging his tongue along the underside of the cock. As it hardens under his attention he wraps his mouth around the head, sucking hungrily, sloppily, smearing it with the blood left from his bleeding lip. He hears Lucifer's uneven breaths above him.

A sudden tug on his hair, attempting to urge him deeper, but he doesn't permit it. He pulls off Lucifer's cock with a wet sound and lets out a short laugh, grabs Lucifer's wrist. His lips brush gently over a vein.

"No touching," he says in a sing-song voice, joyous and childlike.

"Assertive, are we?" asks Lucifer, tone betraying his growing irritation. "Don't get ahead of yourself."

Too late. This game, whatever it is, will not end until Lucifer's become completely undone. Mammon will ensure it.

"I won't," he answers, exercising just enough caution to prevent Lucifer from stopping everything that's happened till now. "But I've gotta admit, it's almost  _ cute  _ seeing you all worked up."

"Mammon—"

Mammon doesn't let him finish. He releases Lucifer's wrist in favor of winding his fingers around the base of his cock, taking him a second time—and complying, for once, swallowing him deeper, as deep as he can. The strangled sound Lucifer makes at the abruptness of the action is like sweet music to Mammon's ears.

_ "Damn it." _

Mammon hums. He bobs his head, sinking the fingers of his free hand into Lucifer's thigh to steady himself as he sets the pace, letting Lucifer's cock hit the back of his throat in the way he knows he likes. As he'd expected Lucifer is already losing his cool, groaning but not touching in obedience with his earlier command. The latter fact makes him feel incredibly pleased.

He keeps going, giving Lucifer more,  _ more,  _ maintaining the brutal rhythm until he's certain Lucifer is poised near the edge… only to pull off his cock once more, wiping away the drool on his chin.

Lucifer's eyes are alight with some odd mix between anger and arousal. "You are fortunate indeed that I have decided to be merciful tonight."

Mammon snorts. "Not so nice when you're the one being denied an orgasm, is it?"

"You  _ will  _ let me cum."

"I will?" Mammon lifts a brow. He pushes himself upright in order to properly scrutinize the scandalized sight of his brother, reddened face and mussed hair and all. It is a delightfully foreign view, one Mammon believes he could grow used to.

"I dunno…" He traces the lines of Lucifer's abs, pretending to consider. "If I do that, what's in it for me?"

Lucifer scoffs. Mammon's grin widens.

"Huh. Well.  _ Perhaps  _ I could…" Lucifer blinks, waiting for the catch, and he adds, "If you say please."

"You are impossible," Lucifer growls, though he makes no move in protest. Mammon doesn't budge, either, and they spend the next few minutes staring each other down—no doubt waiting for someone to bend.

But Mammon knows he will not be the one bending. Not today.

Lucifer averts his gaze. Sweat beads at his forehead, and his hands twitch at his sides. After some internal debate, he grunts in acknowledgement. "Fine."

"Fine?" Mammon echoes. He resists the urge to laugh, and instead continues his ignorant front. His hand hovers near Lucifer's cock, a silent promise. "You'll have to be more specific."

"Fuck me," Lucifer says, and the words are near inaudible, pained. Clearly this is humiliating for him. Deliciously so. "Please."

Still, it isn't enough. Mammon craves  _ more _ humiliation, letting it be the metaphorical gold he's receiving as compensation for having his fun evening stolen from him.

"Sorry, what? Could you repeat that last part?"

Too far. Lucifer's socked foot presses against his erection, hard enough to elicit pain that is less than pleasurable. Mammon grits his teeth, stammers. "O-okay, yeesh! You don't have to do that! I heard you!"

Satisfied, Lucifer releases him. "Make it good," he says. "Insatiable."

_ I will.  _ Mammon glances at the expanse of Lucifer's neck, his chest, all the skin left unmarked at his own negligence. A mistake he wholly intends to rectify.

He kisses Lucifer's neck first, biting hard enough to draw blood. It's stinging and coppery against his tongue as he sucks on the torn flesh, leaving a bruise. With fleeting touches on Lucifer's cock he repeats this action, over and over, until Lucifer's throat and shoulders are marred beyond recognition.

He leans back and admires his work. Would he have been permitted to be in possession of his phone tonight, he'd have taken a picture.

The memory will have to suffice.

Lucifer, meanwhile, remains motionless under him, offering no reaction save for the occasional hiss through his teeth. Mammon is unable to discern whether this sound is indicative of discomfort or rapture, but he pays it no regard nonetheless—surely if Lucifer was truly displeased he would have said something by this point.

As his lips trail to Lucifer's chest next he feels Lucifer's hands on his back, roughly raking nails down his spine and—

He moans, pinches one of Lucifer's nipples between his thumb and forefinger. "Oh, yeah," he says, words pressed against his breast and barely spoken above a whisper. "Fuck yeah."

Somehow, Lucifer finds this reaction entertaining. He sinks his claws in harder, deeper, clutching Mammon in a way that might be adorable were it not for the intent behind it.

Lucifer brings his mouth close to Mammon's ear, says, "Under the pillow."

Mammon does not need to ask for an elaboration. He reaches beneath the pillow and finds what he's searching for almost immediately, fingers closing around a thin bottle. He examines the label and casts Lucifer an inquisitive glance.

"What? You act like you've never been in my room before." Lucifer's lips pull into a suggestive smirk. "That's always been there."

_ Oh. _

Mammon sees no point in dallying any longer. He uncaps the bottle and pours its liquid contents over his fingers, sharply inhaling at the cool sensation. Then, without further respite, he inserts his first finger into Lucifer.

Lucifer grunts. One of his hands move upwards, tangling into the hairs at the base of Mammon's neck. "You'd do best to be more cautious, now."

_ Yeah, like you've ever been cautious with me,  _ Mammon thinks but does not say, letting his response be made clear in how he pushes the digit in further. Lucifer gasps, and suddenly his touches are scathing, wrathful. Mammon welcomes the pain they bring.

"That noise you made then," Mammon says, delighted, "was that—"

"No."

"But ya—"

Lucifer tugs on his hair. Hard.  _ "No." _

He chuckles, presses his tongue against the dried blood on Lucifer's cheek from earlier. He's surprised to find Lucifer shudder at the contact, and slips a second finger into him for good measure. Lucifer groans, scratching him again, making it  _ hurt. _

"Yeah," Mammon comments, attempting to insert some humor into the situation, "stings a bit, doesn't it? You get used to it, though."

"I know  _ that,"  _ Lucifer snaps. Mammon chuckles a bit at the defensiveness in his tone.

He withdraws his fingers. Then, pressing the head of his cock at Lucifer's entrance, teasing, he asks, "What's the magic word?"

He watches Lucifer's face contort in confusion, followed by realization and, eventually, irritation. "You're—"

But Mammon hardly cares for his pride. He spreads Lucifer's legs further, gazes upon him with a sultry expression. So close, he can just push in—but he won't. Not yet. "Say it."

Lucifer's voice breaks. From  _ what,  _ exactly, Mammon cannot tell.

"Please."

_ Even better than the first time,  _ Mammon surmises, hooking his hand beneath one of Lucifer's knees. "Please what?"

"Please. Fuck me."

"If you insist."

Mammon sinks his nails into Lucifer's thighs and sinks in slowly, throwing his head back in unadulterated bliss as he savors the tightness around him. He hears Lucifer suck in heavy breaths, and promptly snaps to attention when he feels his even teeth sink into his shoulder.

"You," Lucifer pants, "had better make this worth it." He graces the spot he'd bitten with a kiss, next sentence muffled from where he lavishes the mark with attention. "If not, I will show you agony unimaginable. The likes of which you've never seen."

"Yeah?" Mammon asks. He lifts his brows. "You promise?"

He doesn't await an answer, shifting his hips back slightly before slamming in again. Lucifer quivers beautifully beneath him and the vision itself is enough to urge him on further, slamming in again and again and setting a brutal pace, one Lucifer has similarly used against him on countless occasions.

And at last—at long last—he bends, crashing his lips against Lucifer's. The ensuing kiss is messy, all teeth and sweat and spit and  _ blood,  _ tasting bitter yet downright  _ addicting.  _ Mammon sucks on Lucifer's bottom lip and pulls away, thrusting faster as he feels his approaching release.

Lucifer, so tight, clenching around him… Lucifer, moaning in his ear, leaving scratches on his back so deep that they're bleeding now, and it  _ hurts.  _ Amazingly.

Mammon knows he won't last long at this rate—and, sure enough, in what feels like the next instant he's finally giving a firm, final thrust, fully sheathed as he spills his seed inside Lucifer. And Lucifer grimaces but allows it, his own cock red and leaking between them.

Rather mercifully, Mammon takes him in hand and finishes him with just a few short strokes, letting him cum before he's sighing heavily and collapsing atop him.

Mammon isn't sure how long they're lying still after that, catching their breaths. Too long, probably, as when Lucifer finally pushes him off his earlier impatience has returned tenfold.

"Are you satisfied?" he asks. There is some venom in his words, but truthfully Mammon is too tired to pay it any mind.

Mammon manages a lazy smile. "I dunno. Are  _ you?" _

Lucifer, surprisingly energetic after being thoroughly fucked, rises from the bed and crosses the room, gathering the remaining clothes that had been discarded on the floor. "Not until you've finished studying, I'm not. Get up."

"Wait, what?" Mammon jolts upright, shocked. Whatever post-orgasm bliss he'd felt a second ago has since completely dissipated. "Y-you can't be  _ serious,  _ right? We did  _ that,  _ and now you want to…?"

"Did you truly believe a midnight rendezvous would be enough to make me forget about your academic obligations?"

Mammon's shoulders slump. Defeated. "I suppose not."

Lucifer clicks his tongue. Considering.

Then he says, "How about this: if you are dutiful in your studies for the remainder of the week—and do  _ not  _ sneak out in the middle of the night—perhaps I will allow you another chance to… how did you say it… 'make me writhe for you?'"

Now  _ that  _ has Mammon's attention. Something like excitement swells in his chest, thrilling and intense. "You… You're serious."

"I am," Lucifer replies. He fixes the sleeves of his shirt and slips on his vest, adjusting his appearance until it looks as if they'd never been in his bed at all. "Make up your mind, quickly. My resignation is wearing thin."

Mammon already knows his decision. He sweeps his legs over the side of the bed and gets shakily to his feet, practically bursting with renewed energy.

"It's a deal."

**Author's Note:**

> if you enjoyed, pls consider leaving a comment!! it's what inspires me to write more
> 
> im also on [twitter](https://twitter.com/shotacatboy) if you ever wanna talk!


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